Thursday, April 2: Another Nicola driveway detour, we talk in the early morning sunshine. I’m now in the habit of ambling around in my PJs for a while, so dress in haste when Nicola texts that she’s on her way. It’s the second day in a row that I pull on a camisole and t-shirt with no bra. Nah to the bra? Standards are surely slipping. But still doing make-up and must-have red lipstick. Before lockdown really kicked, in I ordered a DIY eyebrow tint kit online to obliterate the white growing through the black (and to avoid close contact with a beautician). The courier parcel with the kit is neatly placed on my front step this morning.
I’m guilty; this is a non-essential item. I hadn’t thought that through when I ordered it. The instructions look complex. Maybe tomorrow. A full makeover will be required when normal life resumes: leg wax, eyebrows, pedicure, hair cut, and so on. (My hairdresser Patrick texts permission for me to trim my fringe if necessary. Nothing else).
The second delivery of the day: Volare bread and hot cross buns, some for me, some for Guy and Anna. It feels good to be supporting a local business; fresh Volare hot cross bun and fig jam is a bonus lockdown breakfast.
It is a bright spot. Need one. The demise of Bauer Media in New Zealand – and legendary magazines such as The Listener, North & South, Metro, NZ Woman’s Weekly, and others – is a dark day for journalists and readers. This morning’s announcement is brutal, distressing, the loss of good titles and good people, the editors, writers, columnists, sub-editors, graphic artists, photographers and others. Many of them are household names. Messages stream between friends and journalist colleagues. As one commentator says, “Is the biggest story of our lifetime the one that finally pushes journalism over the cliff?”
There are 89 Covid-19 cases in confirmed in New Zealand today, the highest number in a single day. And 1 million cases reported globally.
Some small miracles:
1. My watch works again. I cleaned it thoroughly, tapped it firmly on the back, and it resumed normal service. Tick-tock, huge relief.
2. Richard talks me through using WordPress so I can turn my daily diary into blog. He’s patient, it begins to make sense.
3. Nicola bikes to my place at Wine O’Clock. How good to have a friend who lives just a few minutes away. We sit with huge space between us, on well-wiped chairs. She conjures her own wine, glass and snacks from a backpack. For little while, all is well in the world. I place Nicola’s chair in quarantine when she leaves.
